


don't you ever dream of someplace better

by caricature_of_intimacy



Series: I think I'll die obsessed [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence, like extremely minor, putting this in the tags so you know what youre getting into lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:12:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caricature_of_intimacy/pseuds/caricature_of_intimacy
Summary: It's his birthday. They've been broken up for five months and twenty three days. Some things take time.





	don't you ever dream of someplace better

**Author's Note:**

> this is uhhhh yeah i don't really know what this is, but enjoy? thanks for reading! xx

It's dark by the time he gets home.

He doesn't feel drunk anymore, just sad and exhausted.

His watch (Robert's watch) reads:

 

23:47

 

The darkness from outside follows him into the mill, wraps up tight around him, bleak and burdening.

Liv is already tucked away, sound asleep. Or, at least, doing a really good job of pretending.

It's raining softly, has been since he left the pub, tapping against the windows and the roof, almost a reminder, as if it's saying, "Hey, I'm here, you're not alone, it's going to be okay."

He pulls on sweats and a t-shirt, leaves his wet clothes on the floor. He'll deal with them later, when everything doesn't feel so goddamn heavy.

He makes his way downstairs, opens the fridge, gets a beer, sits on the sofa, stares at the blank television screen.

 

00:04

 

He curls in on himself and cries.

He cries hard, lets out all of his sadness and anger and frustration, squeezes his eyes shut, slams his fists against the armrest, just lets himself feel, lets everything go.

He cries until he hears the doorbell.

 

00:26

 

He wipes his face, sniffles, tries to compose himself.

It's raining hard now, he hears it pounding relentlessly against the sides of the mill.

He wonders who the hell is ringing his doorbell at this godforsaken hour, but deep down, he knows.

He opens the door.

Robert is soaking wet, hair plastered to his forehead, and there's a bruise forming under his left eye.

They stare at each other for what is probably ten seconds but feels like a goddamn eternity.

He steps back, opens the door wider, wordlessly invites Robert into the space where everything fell apart.

Robert looks lost, standing in the middle of the room, not quite sure what to with himself.

He brings Robert a change of clothes, settles back on the couch and sips his beer, tension quickly filling the silence between him and his ex.

Robert changes in the bathroom, comes back out and looks around, still not exactly sure what to do.

His heart tugs in his chest a little at the sight of Robert wearing his clothes.

He gestures for Robert to sit.

Robert does.

His eyes linger on the bruise on Robert's cheek.

 

23:18

 

He's had too much to drink, he knows this, but hey, it was a party, they were meant to be celebrating. After all, you only turn 26 once.

He isn't feeling very celebratory.

Another year gone by, he thinks, and it all goes to waste in the end, so what's even the point?

He takes another swig of beer.

It tastes bitter, but he feels bitter, so it's fitting, really.

The animated chatter in the room dies down suddenly, and the only noise in the pub is the lame pop music coming from the speakers that's starting to give him a headache.

People are shooting him worried glances now, and he braces himself.

He hears his voice, Robert's voice, casually asking Chas for a pint, and suddenly, he's livid.

He's never been more angry in his fucking life.

What exactly he's angry about, well, he's not sure yet.

Maybe he's angry that Robert, the one person that he was supposed to be able to rely on, let him down.

Maybe he's angry that Robert has the nerve to show up, today of all days, when he specifically asked him not to.

Maybe he's angry that Robert is apparently ignoring him, avoiding eye contact entirely as he circles his finger around the rim of his glass.

Maybe he's angry that they aren't currently pressed up against the bathroom wall, lips connected and bodies slotted together the way he so desperately craved.

Maybe he's angry that he still fucking cares.

Whatever.

He just knows he's angry, and it's Robert's fault.

 

23:23

 

He punches Robert.

 

23:24

 

Chas yells at him to go home and sleep it off.

Everyone else looks shocked.

Robert just looks sad.

He kind of hates himself.

He goes.

 

00:31

 

They sit in silence for a few minutes, the sound of the downpour outside making up for the lack of conversation.

Robert looks like he's drowning in the clothes that are a bit too big on him.

He feels like he's drowning in the emotions that are swimming through his heart, fucking with his head.

He can't stand it.

Slowly, he reaches out, brushes the tips of his fingers gently against the bruise on Robert's cheek. It's an apology.

Robert looks at him, eyes completely unguarded, and reaches up to grab his wrist. His skin burns where Robert touches it.

Robert kisses his palm, nuzzles into his hand, and something inside him snaps.

Every bone in his body is aching for Robert's touch. Every ounce of common sense he has tells him that's a bad idea.

He ignores common sense.

Robert pushes him back until he's lying down, straddles his hips, and then their lips are pressed together in a desperate kiss, and it's been so many fucking months.

Robert's mouth is warm and inviting.

He accepts the invitation.

 

1:05

 

They don't do anything except kiss, Robert's weight against him on the sofa, solid and beautiful and, god, he'd missed this.

They kiss for what feels like ages. They kiss until neither of them can breathe, until they're both dizzy and overheated and senseless, and then they kiss some more.

He thinks he could kiss Robert for the rest of his life.

 

1:59

 

They go upstairs, fall into his bed, curl around each other.

For the first time in months, he feels safe again.

Robert's fingers are carding through his hair, and he's content, drifting off to sleep.

"I love you," Robert whispers, and he is just awake enough to register it.

Warmth spreads from the core of his body, sets his very being ablaze, rekindles the fire in his heart that he'd worried had been put out for good.

"I love you, too," he mumbles back sleepily, words slurring together slightly. He really fucking does.

They fall asleep together.

 

6:52

 

When he wakes up, he's afraid to open his eyes, doesn't want to see the proof that it was just a dream.

But, amazingly, Robert is still right by his side, their legs fitted together, his head on Robert's chest.

He can feel every rise and fall of Roberts steady breathing, can hear his heartbeat, and it grounds him, replaces his fear with love so deep he can't find the end of it, doesn't think he could even if he wanted to, doesn't think he ever will.

He reaches down to tangle his fingers with Robert's, settles back in.

It's still raining, he notices, a lullaby in the background as he drifts back to sleep.

They're home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: androgynouspoetrycollector


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